Take This To Your Grave
by crazymadscience
Summary: Bury these things, bury them deep in your heart. Actual Summery inside. R&R Please.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer: **

The title of this Fan Fiction is also the title of one of **_Fall Out Boy_**'s albums. I do not own it.

All chapter titles are the titles to songs by **_Fall Out Boy._** This is _not_ a song-fic, and no lyrics of theirs were used in the actual writing of this story. They were only my inspiration, and I would like to give them credit.

I don't own any of the characters or settings in this story. They are the property of **Degrassi: The Next Generation**.

**Author's Note: **

In **Season 4: Ghost In The Machine, **Paige is informed that she must appear in court to face Dean in her rape trial. She does, Dean is found innocent, she crashes Spinner's car, and confesses to the police. For the purposes of this Fan Fiction, I have an alternate idea for that plot line. Therefore, in _my_version of **Ghost In The Machine, **Paige is only notified that she will have to appear sometime in the future. All other plot lines remain untouched. Aka, Spinner and Paige still break-up in **Island In The Stream** because of Hazel's photos.

I began to write this Fan Fiction a few days after **Secret** aired in the US. Anything after that episode I know vaguely about from the 'journal entries' of the characters from Dtv. So although this Fan Fiction is, basically, my version of season 5, I have not seen anything past **Secret**. So there you go. I'll do my best. And I will continue to watch the new episodes, however, they may or may not be reflected in this story. I don't know quite yet.

Also, I decided to write this, but I will of course continue my other Fan Fiction. No worries mate. Laugh and Giggle.

**Summary:**

The notebook was so easy to close. She shut it quickly and shoved it under her mattress. She didn't want to think about that anymore. She was different now. He was different now. And even if they weren't, they weren't together anymore.

OoO

There was something more than wrong about him. He wanted it gone. But, since he couldn't squeeze it out of himself, he squeezed it out of her.

OoO

She pushed the hair out of her eyes, and pressed down on the gas pedal.

_Sixty-five…seventy-five…eighty-five…ninety…_

The scenery outside her windows blended into one streaming whirl of Technicolor, and the hollowness inside her started to melt. She was flying, she was living. And then… she was dying. Softly falling out of her reverie as the paramedics shifted her out of the crumpled carnage her flying had caused. Her blood was leaving her, and her tears were frozen in the backwards reaches of her heart. While at first death had seemed small and comforting, now it was large and all-encompassing, and she was scared. She was scared and alone…

OoO

She shifted uncomfortably out from under him. He was suffocating her. Literally. She was having trouble drawing breath. Her chest was aching where his enormous head was lying unmoving. She hitched one shoulder up, and rotated as much as possible, until he fell off her.

"Finally." She muttered softy, as she padded over to his trousers splayed across the floor. She reached down into the first pocket, a lucky guess. She pulled out his wallet, and took all of the bills, but left the cards. _Five hundred dollars… I told you I was too expensive for you…_She thought cynically, and walked quickly out of his hotel room…

OoO

His hair was greasy, and he ran his fingers through it, trying to find a way to make it seem more presentable. It was a lost cause. What did you expect when you haven't had a shower for more than a week? He took a deep breath and walked slowly up to her front door. He had heard all about what she had been doing, and he was so worried about her.

OoO

She ached on the inside. Normal things hurt. Her stomach was scrunched up and she felt sick. Her head ached and her nose ran. But other things were different too. Her heart ached. It ached with such ferocious precision that she felt dizzy. This was not ok. It would never be ok again. It had haunted him for the longest time, shifted, faded, and flared. It was not ok. It would never be ok again. His car was in the distance, and she turned to him again…

OoO

Where was she? Questions asked with periods drifted through her head. Her eyes cracked and through the haze she could barely make him out. He was smiling. _Why was he smiling. _Not again. She didn't do that again. She had fixed it! She had put it back together. _I am so week_. Her heart was fluttering, and even though she had meant it in the mental sense, the physical side of her was fading too…

OoO

When he told himself he hated her, she hadn't looked like this. But, that wasn't why he was smiling. In the blackness that shod his heart, he felt a tickle at the thought of revenge.

OoO

One was dependable while the other was expendable. At least, that's what he told himself as he pushed the button. With one satisfying click he erased all the wrongs attributed to the friendship that lay, figuratively of course, in the recycle bin of his new lap top computer. The satisfaction was not complete, however. There was one more step…

OoO

_I wish you never met yourself._ An odd thought for an odd person. She was herself again. Or another farce. But her hair looked right. That was all that mattered.

OoO

What did they know? They didn't know. They didn't know. Metal is heavier than it looks. Could she do it? An answer never follows the question you always want to ask. The thud was more audible than the tears. It's a pity no one noticed anything at all.

OoO

The trees were starch against the background. She looked them all in the eyes. They didn't like it. They didn't like her. They all said no. It was strange; she changed. She realized something: you can't look wraiths in the eyes.

OoO

He imagined a comfort in the bottom. He watched for it, he searched. He spent all his time with his eyes focused on the bottom. Is it a wonder that he fell?

OoO

This mistake was the biggest of them all. The lie felt stale in his mouth. Over used. Under scored with insincerity. It hurt him a little that he didn't have to try. But after her, he didn't have the strength to cry.

OoO

He had it all figured out. He had the answers, and he had no more questions. But it's when you get cocky that the other shoe drops. It missed his head, but it hit his heart.

OoOoO

This was only the prologue. The next chapter is the first actual chapter. Please read and review. Thanks.


	2. Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash

Ashley Kerwin stood outside his door. She was fidgeting with the charm bracelet on her wrist. She spun it around her wrist once for every negative thought that flew through her head.

She looked down at herself. There was barely enough light to see, but she didn't care. In fact, she liked it better that way. She pulled her hand away from her bracelet, and smoothed the light green blouse over her stomach. The light blue jean skirt she had paired with it reflected the light of her eyes.

She looked good. She knew that. But her hair wasn't black anymore. She didn't have an armband around her week wrists to proclaim to the world: "Don't mess with me." Instead, she had put on the old charm bracelet she had not worn since grade school. She was lacking the defiant uplift of her chin. She wore only a small amount of brown mascara, and no eyeliner. Her shirt had no angry words jilted across the bust. Her skirt was not short enough to be edgy, and she was not wearing heels. She was wearing blue nail polish, and her eyes were large. Large enough to contain an ocean of tears.

She was not daring the world to take her on. She was meekly asking it to pass by. She felt… different. She still wasn't sure what had happened to her over the summer. Wasn't sure if the result was good or bad. But, she did know that she was here. She was here and she had to talk to him.

She felt like a hypocrite. She hated herself. She forced her hand to the smooth wood of the door, she forced herself to knock. She forced the tears down.

He answered quickly and her palms started to sweat.

"Ash? Wh-? How-? Come in, come in." His eyes roamed over her new look and she cringed. She stepped around him, and sat down on the old couch in his living room. There were so many memories. "How… How are you?"

His voice was concerned. He was worried because she looked so different. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to pat him on the back and explain to him that every time she screwed up, she changed the way she looked.

See, Ashley was the girl in the class room that screamed: "I don't give a damn what you think." But the thing was, she cared. Oh, how she cared. She was the girl that hid behind the way you saw her, so you wouldn't have to look at her. So you wouldn't have to peer too close.

And when she let up? And when her guard was down? And when you _did_ see her? Well, she hid again. She hid behind another part of herself. Told herself another lie. Looked away from the mirror. Stopped looking you in the eye.

"Ok." She didn't ask him it back; she was too distracted by him. She didn't want to hurt him.

He sat down across from her, and she noticed. She noticed that he hadn't made a move to kiss her, or even to hug her since she got here, and it hurt. She could understand it. It wasn't that she couldn't. She knew why. She had left him staring at her retreating back- how did she expect him to feel?

But she had hoped… she had hoped he wouldn't care. A small part of her wished him to be so hung up on her that he would take her back no matter what. No matter whom she was.

She focused her gaze an inch above his head and began to speak.

"I- I missed you." The words were small. They were too small, and the emotions were bigger. She wanted to find big enough words, but she couldn't. His gaze hardened and he looked into her eyes. She tried to keep her focus above his head, but she failed.

She tried to keep the tears at bay. "I love you, Craig. I really do. I'm so sorry." She failed and the tears fell.

He was looking at her. He was moving towards her. Suddenly, she felt she couldn't tell him. She had found big enough words. She couldn't bear to speak them.

He was next to her on the couch. He put his arm around her and tried to pull her into a hug; he seemed to notice that she couldn't find the right words.

"Craig… I…" she couldn't tell him. Not here. Not like this. The tears were falling so fast, and he was so close. Too close. If he kissed her, she wouldn't be able to live with herself. She half wanted him to, and half didn't. "I think… I think we should break up." The words came out in a rush, and she felt her insides crush.

He stopped moving towards her. He stopped and stared at her. His arm left her side like she was on fire, and he stood up quickly.

"You think we…? You… think…we should break up?" His words held a question apiece and he rushed the last words. As if the taste they left in his mouth was totally undesirable.

Her heart was breaking, but she couldn't tell him. She just couldn't. "I gotta go." She stifled a sob and rushed out the front door and down into the street.

She didn't see the confused look on his face, or the frown that creased his forehead.

OoO

She giggled as the small beard he threatened to shave tickled her forehead. She sighed and leaned into him.

"You know, I don't live here. _You _have to open the door." He flashed her a perfect grin, and her heart melted farther into her shoes.

Ever since Paige had been dating Mr. O…_Matt_, she had felt safe. She felt real. When she looked at him, she could forget herself in his eyes. She had never been so in love. Not with anything, or anyone. Not even Spinner. The most important thing about him, though, was the other thing she could forget in his eyes: Dean.

When Matt held her, that awful memory filtered away to a place in her head. A place she could pretend was nothing more than a bad television show. That part of her past was no longer real. She loved him for that.

She reluctantly stepped away from him long enough to slip her key into the lock. It clicked and they were inside.

She told him to sit on the couch and she went into the kitchen. She wanted tonight to be special. Tonight held so many implications. It was Matt and her three month anniversary and the eve of her first day of her last year of high school.

She wanted it to be special, for her, and for Matt.

She grabbed two cokes from the fridge, and a bag of chips off the counter. She hurried back into the living room, to see him idly flipping through a stack of chick flicks positioned next to the DVD player.

He heard her come into the room and turned to face her. He amazed her every time: a genuine smile crossed his face at the sight of her.

"So…when will your mother be getting home- I don't want you to get in trouble." His sincerity did nothing to keep the frown from crossing Paige's face.

Strictly speaking, that was the only flaw in their otherwise perfect relationship. Paige had not be sure of how to broach the subject of her new, older, boyfriend, to her new, over protective mother.

She had tried a non-evasive route. "Hey mom, I met one of Dylan's friends." Her casual remark had made no impression on her mother. _Good, _she had thought. "He asked me out. I want to go." Her mother was shooting her a deer in the headlights look. "I really like him?" What was meant to convince her mother only came out as a week question.

So, her mother was obviously not going to be very into Paige dating someone older than her. Someone who had already graduated collage.

Paige forced a flirty smile on her face. "Actually, she left me a message," _she was practically in tears_, "saying she had a business meeting tonight. She was-" _depressed that she couldn't be with you,_ "-'nt going to be able to spend tonight with me." Matt shot her a confused look. "Tomorrow's the first day of my last year of high school?"

Matt nodded, and Paige sat down next to him. "So…" she whispered in his ear. "We've got the house to ourselves."

He turned to press his grin against hers.

They were so into each other that they didn't notice the front door open…

OoO

Marco stood outside of the coffeehouse. _What the hell?_ The question flashed through his mind so quickly it was all his existence could contain.

He had been sitting at a table in the back, silently looking over some papers and contemplating whether or not he wanted to run for president this school year, when he had looked into the eyes of… a pretty brunette.

She was smiling at him, and asking him something. Why couldn't he seem to hear a word she was saying? She made a gesture and he realized that he should ask her to repeat what she had said.

"Uh… what?" _That was smooth… and rude! Rephrase!_ "Erm…I mean, could you say that again?"

She laughed and for some reason he was reminded of bells. "I said: could I borrow your chair for a moment? I need to use it to get to the book on the top shelf." She repeated her earlier gesture and he followed the motion to a rather large book placed, rather precariously, above his head.

"Uh…sure." _Wow, you're so smooth. Wait…why do I care? Err…_

"Thanks!" She chirped and she looked at him pointedly.

"Oh!" He let out a short sound and hopped out of the chair. She gave him a funny look and stifled another laugh. He felt like slapping himself in the head. Wait… no he didn't. Did he?

As she climbed unto the chair his eyes roamed over her, and he wasn't noticing the designer she was wearing. _Holy shit._ He was _attracted_ to her.

She grabbed the book, and hoped off the chair. He turned beet red and looked away from her face. His eyes gravitated to the book: _Atlas Shrugged_, by Ayn Rand. It was huge.

She was smiling and it seemed to pull his eyes back to hers. The same thought was rushing through his head: _What the hell?_ It barely left room for conscious thought.

She stuck her hand out and cocked her head. "Hi, I'm Ellyn." She smiled at him again, and it was so bright he had to smile back.

"Marco." He turned red again and shook her hand. "Erm…I mean, I'm Marco." His blush deepened, but her laugh tinkled and he felt better.

"I pretty much got that. So, do you come here a lot?" She asked, obviously just trying to make polite conversation.

"Erm…a bit. You?" He spat the last part out quite fast, almost too fast. Her laugh escaped again.

"Yeh, quite 'a bit'." Her smile broadened, and he found it infectious again. He felt himself smiling back. "They've got a great selection of the classics." She hugged the book to her chest. "Plus, the coffee's not too shabby."

He wasn't looking at her face, and he didn't laugh at the joke. His eyes had followed the book to her chest, and his body was not reacting in a way that was pleasant.

The redness of his cheeks deepened. "I gotta go." He muttered and dashed toward the door.

There was a confused and slightly hurt look following his progress out of the coffee shop…

OoO

The room was dark and Alex flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. "Dammit!" she muttered aloud.

She pushed her way slowly into the room and patted the couch. She could only hope the light bulb needed changing, and not that the bill was late again.

"Josie? Sweetie- you need to wake up." She softly spoke to the small sleeping body on the couch. She got no response.

"You bitch! You're a lying hoe! I know what you did! You think I don't hear things! You think my friends spare my feelings when it comes to gossip! Did you? Guess what? It's all about you! You're such a whore!" Alex could hear the thud as her mother's latest prize buck through her against the wall.

She quickly scooped her baby sister out of the cocoon of blankets on the dilapidated couch. She was lucky that she was young enough that she could still carry her.

Alex carried the child down the hallway, and stopped in front of her sister's room. _No, not gonna risk it._ She quickly moved into her own bedroom and placed the sleeping child on her bed. She tried her light switch. "Shit!"

No power. Oh well. It was probably for the best. Perhaps Larry wouldn't notice that Josie had disappeared. Maybe if he did, it wouldn't enrage him further. Maybe it all didn't matter. On the chance it did, Alex quickly dead bolted her door and moved her dresser in front of it.

She tried to feel bad about leaving her mother out there to take the beating alone, but she couldn't actually make herself do it. She had told her mother before she had let Larry move in that it was a bad idea.

Alex had simply laid out the information: _He beat his last wife. _"She deserved it. Besides, he's changed." _He's into drugs. _"That's just a rumor that his landlord came up with to be able to kick him out." _He got fired from his last job because he kept showing up drunk._ "He had the flu and they wouldn't let him call off. He wasn't drunk."

And the list went on and on.

Josie muttered something in her sleep, and a tear slipped down Alex's cheek. A mother was supposed to do what was best for her children. That was the definition, wasn't it?

Well, Alex's mother had never put her first, so she didn't feel bad about not putting her mother first. And it wasn't like she was saving her own ass here.

Someone had to save Josie. Someone had to take the fist for her. No one had ever done it for Alex, but she'd be damned if the same happened to her baby sister.

"Fuck it! I can't stand you! It's over! Over! Go find another one of your 'side dishes' to screw! Fuck you!" Alex heard stomping and a door slamming. She waited one minute and then, after hearing no re-opening of the door, she moved her dresser, unbolted her door, and rushed into the living room.

Her mother was slumped against the wall with a bleeding lip. She was staring off into space. Alex didn't pause. She rushed straight to the door and moved the dead bolt into place.

She had put them in herself. One in her bedroom, one on the front door, one on the back door. She rushed to the back door next and locked it quickly.

Only then did she go to her mother, who pushed away her touch and figured her split lip. As Alex shrugged and turned back down the hallway tears began to stream down her mother's face…

OoO

Manny sat staring at herself in the mirror. She fingered the bags under her eyes, and noticed how pale she looked. She felt as though she had PMS and a head ache.

She shivered. This wasn't right. She also felt sick to her stomach. She rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom that was two doors down from her room.

The cold porcelain of the toilet was extremely welcome. She must have a fever as well. _Why am I getting the flu the day before school starts?_ She thought dizzily to herself. _This is absolutely ridiculous. Snap out of it. You're fine._

A wave of nausea hit her and she pulled herself above the toilet. After emptying the contents of her stomach, she felt a little better. She was horribly reminded of morning sickness and a panic washed over her.

Luckily, a deep breathe and a rational thought calmed her. She hadn't had sex since her first time with Craig. She wasn't pregnant. _It's just nerves. You're fine. _She told herself. She repeated it to herself enough that she began to believe it. _You're an upperclassmen. It's just excitement._

It was all too easy to believe. Especially since she felt ok now. Throwing up seemed to do the trick.

She stood up shakily and walked slowly back to her room. With each step she seemed to feel a bit more like herself. _Hey, flu. Just stay away until this week is over. Then I'll be sick, deal?_

She laughed a bit at her last thought and turned to her closet.

She needed something to wear tomorrow.

OoO

Hazel stared at her parents in shock. "Wh-what?" She didn't hear them right. She couldn't have.

"We will not allow you to see that Jimmy boy romantically." Hazel's father's eyebrows knit together. "You cannot 'go out' with him." Hazel's mother placed her hand on his arm and she realized she had no allies.

"Wh-Why?" She stammered. She swallowed the knot in her throat.

"He is not Muslim!" Her father spat out, as though she had lost her mind. "Besides, you are not ready to marry. By far." He nodded his head once, decisively.

Hazel's heart was pounding. She had to sort through that last comment. Marry? Marry… She knew that the Muslim outlook on dating was to find someone to marry, and only that. They weren't big on doing it just for the fun of it. Hazel swallowed her tears. As for Jimmy being Muslim, that was pretty obvious: He wasn't.

She felt slightly dizzy. She had hoped that it wouldn't come to this. She had done a pretty good job, she thought. She had pretty much kept the person she was at school from showing up at home, and for quite some time, she had kept her at home self secret from her peers.

She didn't like to lie to her parents, but she knew that they would never allow her to date Jimmy, if they had known. So she had kept it from them. They had only just barely approved of her having a close male friend, which was all they thought he was, when he was shot. She had tried so hard to keep it together, to hold unto the farce, but she couldn't. The lie was tearing her up.

So, she had stop trying to conceal their relationship. Jimmy's close brush with death had made her realize that you had to live every day like it was your last. So she had stopped being careful, and a family friend had seen the two of them share a kiss last week.

Now, the day before her senior year in high school, her parents had called her into the family room to tell her what they had decided. They said that they were disappointed in her, but that they had no right to punish her. It wasn't a family rule she had broken: it was a religious one.

She would have to answer to Allah. So they told her to go to her room. They would continue to trust her, but she had to make the choice whether to lie or not. She had a choice: her boyfriend or her God?

OoO

J.T. placed his hand on Liberty's back and pulled her toward him. Their kiss held passion and she sighed into his arms. Their kiss lengthened and J.T. pulled her down unto the couch in his living room.

Liberty let out a small giggle. She had ended up in his lap. She shifted so she was sitting next to him, and a frustrated look caught her off guard.

"What?" She asked softly. He looked her deep in the eyes.

"You're my girlfriend." Now she shot him the frustrated look.

"Yes?" She asked him for a point.

"Well! You don't have to act like you don't want to touch me." He voice was quiet and hurt.

"What?" She asked confused. "Wh- I was just kissing you!" She rushed out.

"Yeh, but it's the second we're sitting down. The second it could be anything more than just a simple 'goodnight dear' kiss, you're moving away from me!" His curly hair bounced in emphasis of his words.

She was shocked, and slightly hurt. "So- let me get this straight. You're mad at me because I didn't want to sit on your lap?" Her words were incredulous.

He cheeks reddened. "When you say it like that-"

"How else am I supposed to say it?" She asked sarcastically.

He repeated it with a bad British accent. He smiled at her and she gave him a very small, non-happy, smile back. She looked at him closely and tried to decide whether or not to let it go.

"What I mean is, we're sixteen for crying out loud! We've been dating for three months, and we've only made out like once!" his hair was bouncing again. She just stared at him. He didn't seem to notice her clue to shut up. He continued: "I mean, look at all of your friends! My friends! Christ, look at Emma! And even Toby and Kendra make out all the time!" She was still just staring at him. "And there's Man-"

"Manny? You want me to be more like Emma and Manny?" her question was dangerously quiet. He noticed.

"No. I don't. I like you because you're Liberty." He scratched his head. "It's just; I wish you'd loosen up a bit." He smiled a puppy dog smile at her.

"J.T., when I'm ready for all that, I'll loosen up. But for right now? Right now, just kissing you is fine." She stared at him. He sighed.

"Look, Liberty. I really like you. I just- we need some time apart. I need to think, you know?" He sighed again, and she felt her heart constrict.

"Yeah…sure. I guess I need to think too." Her words were slow; she looked away from him, and shoved her tears farther into her heart. "I have- I gotta go."

She rushed out his front door, and he sat down on the couch with his head in his hands.

OoO

Ellie walked through the doorway into the kitchen. The answering machine was blinking. There was a message. She stared at it, and took inventory of her emotional state.

_Heart's not racing…face isn't flushed…stomach didn't roll over._ She shrugged and walked to the fridge. She grabbed an apple and the peanut butter. She walked over to the knife drawer (this was the best thing in her life; she trusted herself enough to keep knives in the house and not use them for an unintended purpose,) and pulled out a paring knife. She grabbed a cutting board and pulled a chair up to the table, deposited all of the stuff in her arms on the table, and walked over to the answering machine.

She eyed it for a moment. The question was absent: _Is it him?_ It wasn't wrapping itself around her throat. It wasn't suffocating all other thought. It wasn't there building her expectations up high so she could fall off the top and crush her heart on the landing.

Her hand reached towards the PLAY button, and her heart didn't accelerate. She jabbed it with her finger and walked back to the table. The voice took a moment to announce itself:

"Umm…Hey, this is Marco. Call me. I wanted to see...erm…I think we should talk… do you want to do something tomorrow, after school? Erm… never… would you call me? Thanks." Click.

She sighed and stifled a laugh. She wondered briefly want could have Marco in such a state. _Dylan probably got a new hair cut. Oh well. It wasn't him._ She sighed again and eyed the knife.

She picked it up and held it so the kitchen light reflected over its surface. It made her happy to see the shiny metal move. As her wrist turned it in the light, an optical illusion made the blade seem to bend.

She sighed yet again, and contemplated what that message had meant. And not the Marco part.

Not one tear fell down her cheek as she brought the blade down and sliced the smooth flesh of…the apple.

OoOoO


	3. The Pros and Cons of Breathing

"You told her what?" Toby sputtered indignantly as he sloshed his bottled water all over his turkey sandwich. J.T.'s cheeks flushed bright pink and he sighed.

"Yeh, I know, I'm sorry." He muttered lamely.

"Sorry!" exclaimed Toby, perturbed. "You know, she's going to tell Kendra you said that-"

"Tell Kendra he said what?" Kendra said brightly as she slid into the chair next to Toby and pecked him on the cheek. His face was warm against her lips and she noticed he was staring resolutely away from her. J.T. was staring blankly into space a foot to the right of her head, and she shook that head and muttered: "_Boys_."

She picked her tray up and stared at Toby with amusement. "Well, whatever. I'm gonna go talk to Paige." She glanced over to Paige's table and nodded. Toby shrugged, and she sighed, exasperated. "Whatever." She muttered again, and walked swiftly away from their table.

Toby brought his gaze sharply into focus and fixed a hardened glare on J.T. _Why is he such an idiot?_ He thought, annoyed. The first half of the school day had gone on with a stony silence being shared between the once sickeningly happy couple of J.T. and Liberty, and Toby had been extremely confused.

Until now, that is. It was lunch and Manny, Emma, Liberty, and Darcy were sharing a table across the lunchroom from them, and Toby didn't really like the silence. Plus, J.T. was a complete idiot, and, though it seemed remote, could have put Toby's relationship in jeopardy.

"You, my friend, are an ass." Toby stated matter-of-factly. "Tell me exactly what you told her. Now." He commanded sharply as it looked like J.T. was about to refuse.

"I just told her that I wished she'd loosen up." He said faintly. He saw Toby's glare, and continued with: "And I may have mentioned a few names of people who were, well, loosened up?" He ended his disjointed thought as a question. Toby looked furious.

"And you just might have mentioned that Kendra and I make-out all the time? Happen to slip out?" He asked in a very quiet voice. "Do you get it, you idiot? Liberty is going to tell Kendra that! Kendra's going to think that _I_ told you that we make-out all the time!" Toby sloshed more water on his sandwich. "If she gets mad at me-"

"I'm sorry, man!" J.T. exclaimed. "I didn't mean to get you mad at me too." He rubbed his hands over his eyes. He was so tired. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night. "It's not like I planned it!" he burst out, frustrated with himself. "Ah…I am an ass." His voice was strained.

Toby stared at him, and sympathy flashed through his eyes. He grabbed the cookie he had been about to eat. "Here." He said and chucked it at J.T. It hit him in the head. "We're even." Toby said heavily, and looked at his sandwich. It was all soggy. _Oh well, I'm not really hungry._

"I mean," J.T. continued, sounding depressed. "It's not like I broke up with her 'cause she's not 'fast' enough for me-"

"'Fast?'" Toby interrupted incredulously. "They say _I'm_ the nerd." He muttered wryly.

J.T. glared at him. "It's just that I had been thinking about it. I mean, she's really uptight." He said as though that explained it all. He caught Toby's look. "I don't mean physically!" He exclaimed, and then thought about what he had said. "Well," he rephrased. "I mean, she is and all, but that's not why I wanted the break up." Toby shot him another look.

"Ok!" J.T. shot out, as though someone was interrogating him. "That was part of it. But, mostly," His voice quieted, and Toby thought he was being serious, "it was stuff like not being able to be one solitary minute past curfew. Or not being alone at my house. Or not drinking caffeinated soda, 'It's not good for you!'" He imitated Liberty quite well. Toby sighed.

"I hate to say it- I told you so." He said without a smile. "I mean- it's _Liberty_. What did you expect?"

J.T. glared at him. "Don't talk about my-" He stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his tray. "Whatever." He finished weekly. "I really did need to think about everything." He muttered softly.

Toby either nodded his head, or shook it; J.T. couldn't tell.

OoO

Ellie sat down at the table and looked into the faces of its occupants. They were all staring into space, and not one of them seemed to notice that Ellie had taken a seat. She coughed.

Their eyes didn't move at all. _Ok, what the hell?_ Ellie thought wonderingly to herself, _Ashley looks like someone kidnapped her and turned her into her exact opposite. _Ellie turned to gaze at her best friend. She was wearing _pink_ for crying out loud. And her hair was brown again. Ellie couldn't seem to get over how different she looked. It had been a shock that morning to see Ashley come walking down the hallway looking so… preppy. Ellie had not said anything about it to her; she thought there had to be something up with her. And now, Ellie was sure there was. Ashley looked positively miserable. She just hoped Ashley would share whatever it was with her soon.

Ellie turned her focus to the blonde teen sitting across the table from Ash._ Paige's eyes are so open she looks permanently surprised._ Miss Little Ray of Sunshine looked seriously upset as well. Ellie stared at the once open face that was now pinched and closed up. Paige's jaw was clenched, and she looked like something had either depressed her, or made her extremely mad. Ellie couldn't tell. Maybe it was both.

A shuddered breath made her turn to Hazel. Now, Ellie was not normally a big fan of Hazel- when she did talk to her it was mostly because Ashley was friends with Paige, who was friends with Hazel. Come to think of it, that was pretty much the only reason Ellie was sitting at this lunch table now- but, she thought the girl needed a friend. _She looks like she's about to start sobbing. _Ellie opened her mouth to say something comforting, when Hazel stifled a sob, and jumped up from the table, and threw out all of her uneaten food. She rushed out of the cafeteria; everyone's eyes on her. Ellie suspected she was going to the bathroom.

_They all think _I'm _the crazy one._

Hazel's hasty exit seemed to snap the other two out of their daydreams. Paige and Ashley both turned to Ellie; noticing her for the first time. Ellie smiled benignly.

"Sad, really. We've only been here five hours, and she already can't cut senior year." It was a joke, but no one smiled. Ellie frowned at them. "Ok! I want the effing story!" She glared at them, and they both seemed to jump. "What the hell is wrong with you two?" Ellie said in a less harsh voice.

Ash shook her head, and stared at her tray. She didn't want to say. She began the rip her tuna wrap into smaller and smaller pieces. Ellie just stared at her. "Ash!" She looked into Ellie's eyes. "Spill! Now." Ellie commanded.

Tears pooled in the depths of Ash's large eyes, she shot Ellie a look, pleading with her. Ellie just shook her head. "I'm your best friend, Ash. You don't just get to be depressed, and not tell me why." Ashley looked terrified. Ellie noticed. "It can't be that bad. What happened?" She asked softly.

Ashley's eyes unfocused and she drifted into thoughts.

"_You're so…so…beaut…beau-ti-ful!" The dazed 17 year old boy whispered into her hair. _

"_No…not now. Give it to me!" She giggled haplessly, and reached out a useless arm to the table where his equipment was spread out. She gave him a resigned look. "How much?"_

_He winked._

Ashley shook her head violently and picked her tray up. She didn't want to remember that. She didn't want to remember anything. She didn't want…

"I have to go." She said quickly. "S.I.T.E. meeting…" She muttered lamely as a tear fell down her cheek. She followed in Hazel's footsteps and threw out all of her food. Ellie watched her retreating back in shock.

"And what the hell was that?" Ellie muttered under her breath, looking at Paige. She was staring off into space again, but this time her mouth was moving; she looked like she was telling someone off in a whisper. Ellie looked at her suspiciously.

"If I asked- I don't suppose you'd actually tell me, would you?" Paige continued to mutter at her invisible enemy, and Ellie stood up abruptly. "You know what? Forget it!" She too strode out of the cafeteria and by this time people were whispering about what was going on at that table. She glared at a particularly loud freshman, and threw all of her food into the trash can. She gave Sheila a glare with her tray and stomped out of the room.

OoO

Paige didn't even notice she was gone. She was too busy yelling at her mother. She was too busy telling her all the things she should have said last night.

_Paige lay in the crevice between Matt's arm and chest and sighed happily. This was what it was supposed to be like. Her hand reached up, and his joined it. They were holding hands._

_A tear fell down Paige's face, and Matt noticed immediately. "What's wrong, Paige?" He asked anxiously. "Did I hurt you?" Paige tilted her head so she could see into his eyes, and began to cry in earnest. He sat up and pulled her close to him. "Shh…what's the matter?" He asked, running his hands through her hair._

"_No-nothing." She muttered between her tears. "I'm fine." She snuggled her head closer to him and continued to cry. "It's just, this is what I wanted my first time to be like, you know?" She pulled their hands close to her, and kissed his. "It's so perfect, but it's not my…" She trailed off, and pressed herself closer to him._

"_Paige…" Matt said and hugged her closer to him. He kissed the top of her head. "You don't have to say it. I get it." She looked into his eyes, and more tears fell._

"_I know." She said with a shaky smile. _

"_Then stop crying. I don't like to see you unhappy." He said with complete sincerity. Paige's heart skipped a beat, and she kissed him quickly. _

"_But I'm crying because I'm happy." She said in a whisper. More tears fell, and he smiled._

"_That's alright, I guess." He kissed her again, and lay back down, pulling her close to him. They shared a lengthy kiss, and didn't notice the front door open._

"_Surprise!" A loud voice rang out, and startled the two people lying on the couch. Paige jumped up and wrapped the couch blanket around her. Matt leapt to his feet and stood behind her. His worse fears were realized: it was Paige's mother._

_She walked into the living room via the small room that basically held the front door, talking all the while._

"_They let me take a few hours off tonight. I was so thrilled. I mean, I realize that it's late and you need to go to bed soon- big day tomorrow! But, I figured since I was lucky enough to have my business meeting rescheduled, we might break a few rules-" Her chatter broke off as she entered the living room. Her eyes found Paige's and they held each other for a moment._

"_Mom…" Paige said weakly. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, and stepped back towards Matt._

_But her mother didn't seem to notice she had spoken. "You get yourself out of my house this instant!" She snarled at Matt, pointing a finger at him menacingly. "I said get out!" She shouted again as it appeared he wasn't going to move. She took a step toward him and continued to scream, "Paige, did he do it to you too? Did he?" She glared at Matt, and advanced another step. Paige's mouth seemed glued shut, and she felt as though everything was going wrong. "Don't worry, sweetheart! We'll get this one! Don't worry!" Her mother turned away for a second and grabbed a fire poker from its stand next to the living room fireplace._

_She brandished it at Matt, and Paige felt certain she had gone insane. "Mom…" barely more than a whisper escaped her lips. Matt was backing away from her. _

"_Ok, ok. I'm going." He reached down and grabbed his pants, and pulled them on rather quickly, forgetting the underwear part. "See?" he asked with a slight edge to his voice. Once he had the pants buttoned, he frowned at Paige and pecked her on the cheek. "I'll talk to you later." He whispered before grabbing his car keys off of the in table behind him and rushing out the back door._

"_Don't you touch my daughter, you filthy little rapist!" She snarled at his retreating back. Paige's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Her heart was racing, and her mind was demanding that she clear this up; demanding that she find words to convince her mother of Matt's innocence. _

"_Mom…" was all that came out as she watched her mother put a hand up to silence her. _

"_Not now, sweetie." She said softly as she whipped out her cell phone. "Let me call the police first." Paige's mother gave what she probably thought was an encouraging smile, but what looked more like a grimace. "You can tell the story to us all at once. Then you won't have to relive it so much." She stopped talking to Paige abruptly as the operator picked up. _

_Paige heard none of the conversation; it seemed as though all senses and thought were being erased by the blinding terror that was building in her chest. She seemed to wake up when she heard a car pull into her driveway._

"_There they are." Paige's mother breathed. Paige partially snapped out of it; she still felt she couldn't hear over her pounding heart. She pulled the blanket closer to herself and told herself it was all a bad dream._

"_No…" She whimpered. "No…it wasn't…no Mom…you don't…" Paige was fighting tears. She couldn't understand what had made her mother jump to the conclusion she had._

"_Yes, hunny. I'm sure you said no." Her mother said soothingly. "I understand hunny." The police were now standing in the foyer, looking at Paige with sympathy. _

"_No…" Paige said in a somewhat stronger voice. Their sympathy, their understanding…where was it when she _had_ needed it? It made her mad enough to find her voice. "NO YOU DON'T!" She shouted with tears streaming down her face. "You DON'T!" She yelled. Her mother looked taken aback._

"_Then tell us dear. Tell us what he did to you, so that we can get him for it." Her mother said gently. The policeman brought out their pads of paper and began to start scribbling down things._

"_He didn't do anything to me." Paige said sharply. "It was consensual." Now it was her mother's turn to open and close her mouth._

The police had been ready to leave right then, but Paige's mother had simply not been able to accept her daughter's version of the story. After a half an hour of heated discussion between police and mother, in which the police explained that they could hardly charge Matt with rape if Paige said it was consensual, Paige's mother, clearly distraught, rounded on Paige.

She had muttered something about being severely confused and brainwashed, and then… with an odd glint in her eye, she had asked how old Matt was. Paige had answered her reluctantly, and Paige's mother had turned back to the police.

She had made them fill out the paperwork for statutory rape charges, and asked them for a restraining order. This time Paige had nothing to say; they _were_ guilty of that. Her tears had started to come so quickly she hadn't been able to make it to her room before the racking sobs made her chest ache.

OoO

Kendra Mason set her tray down at the table, and stared at Paige. She could tell that something was up with her, because there were tears swimming in her eyes.

"Paige?" Kendra asked softly, easing herself into the chair across from her. Paige's eyes snapped up and focused on Kendra.

"Oh, hi, Kendra. How are things?" She asked with a shaky smile. She was still trying to be the same old Paige, smiley and popular, a cheerleader through and through. Kendra gave her a look full of _I don't buy that._

"I'm fine." She said and opened her milk carton. "How are _you_?" She asked as she took a sip.

Kendra and Paige had never been best friends, to any degree. In fact, for most of the time that Paige was dating Kendra's older brother, Kendra had found her annoying. But, the fact remained that Paige had spent _a lot_ of time at the Mason residence. And, in so doing, Kendra had gotten to know her a bit. Paige really was a big sweetheart, you just had to look through all the superficial stuff she piled on the outside.

And one time, after Paige had found out about Spinner and Manny's flirt fest via Hazel's photos, after Spinner and Paige had broken up, Paige had shown up on Kendra's doorstep with a large box in her arms and tears streaming down her face.

Kendra had muttered something about Spinner not being there because he was at work and Paige and said "I know", in a barely audible voice. She had brought over all the stuff that Spinner had left at her house, and she looked severely broken up. Kendra had been extremely surprised to see this side of Paige. At school, she had looked completely together, like she was already over him, but Kendra could see, as she threw the box roughly unto the couch, and turned around to leave, tears still streaming down her face, that she _was_ human, and she _was_ hurt.

Kendra and Paige had started to bound a little after that, and every once in a while they would sit together at lunch and talk, or once Paige gave Kendra a ride home. Paige thought Kendra was a sweet kid, and Kendra saw Paige as a bit of a protector from the harshness of high school.

So, Kendra was concerned to see Paige look even more hurt than she had that day, a few months ago.

Paige looked into Kendra's eyes and her tears fell. She opened her mouth and the story fell out just as quickly as her tears. For some reason, Kendra was just the person she needed to talk to.

OoO

Manny Santos sat down next to her friend Emma Nelson and sighed. It was the last period of the day, and she just wanted to get home.

"MI, oh the joy!" She exclaimed with sarcasm. Emma didn't say anything, she was just staring straight ahead, the look on her face, grim. Manny nudged her. "Em?"

"Huh?" Emma said, looking at Manny with wonder. "Sorry, Manny, I didn't realize you were here." She said and turned back to the front of the room. She was staring at the white board as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Manny shot her a confused look. "You ok-" But she was cut off as a depressed Liberty slid into the chair beside her. As she too sighed, Manny turned her attention to her.

"What's the matter?" Manny asked exasperated. If this was still about J.T….

"Him!" Liberty muttered savagely. "He smiled at me-"

"Liberty!" Manny said with an angry look. "We know, ok? We know you're pissed at him, but give it a rest, geez." Liberty shot her a hurt look, but Manny continued. "I hate to say it but- I told you so. I mean what did you expect- it's _J.T._" Manny looked at her with impatience.

"Hey! Don't talk about my…" She trailed off and stared at her keyboard. "Never mind." Manny smiled grimily.

"Now, I know that this seems like the end of the world and all, but I think there's something up with Em." For the first time, Liberty turned to look at the other occupant of the table. She saw Emma's empty gaze and shot Manny a worried look.

"Em? You ok?" Liberty asked soothingly. Manny rolled her eyes.

"Wow, why didn't I think to ask that?" Her voice was laced with sarcasm as she turned away from the unresponsive blond next to her. Liberty shot her a hurt look.

"What's wrong with _you_?" Liberty asked her tartly.

"I feel like shit." Manny said and took a deep breath. Liberty eyed her critically.

"You _look_ like shit." She said matter-of-factly. Manny glared at her. The fact was, Manny couldn't argue with her. Her hair was kind of dull. She didn't know why, but after she had gotten out of the shower that morning, it's usual shine just wasn't there. And she knew she looked pale, which totally sucked, because she _had_ a tan. She'd worked on it all summer. And then there was the matter of the dark circles under her eyes…

"Gee, thanks. You're such a supportive friend." Manny said and looked down at her keyboard. "I think I'm getting the flu."

Liberty just shrugged and said wryly: "God, this year really sucks. One whole day back, and everyone looks like they're dying." Manny sighed again, and turned to ask Emma something, when the teacher walked in.

"Ok, class. I'm Ms. West. I'll be your substitute for the next few days." She smiled brightly at the class, and Manny saw Emma blink her eyes rapidly.

_Well, _Manny though with a bit of shock, _guess I know what's bugging her…_

OoO

Hazel Aden scanned the crowd outside of Degrassi Community School. _Where is he? _She thought with a pounding heart. _Where…_ Her heart constricted as she saw him talking with Craig at the bottom of the wheelchair ramp. Craig was gesturing wildly, and looked extremely annoyed. Jimmy placed a hand on his arm, as if to calm him down, and Hazel started to walk towards them.

She had wanted to break up with him somewhere private. She had wanted to ask him to go to the Dot with her, wanted to tell him how sorry she was, wanted to explain the whole situation away. But now? Now…she didn't think she'd be able to be around him for the amount of time it would take to get somewhere private. She could feel her heart breaking.

Her feet were slapping the pavement closer to them, but they still hadn't heard her approach.

"-broke up with you? Just like that?" Hazel heard Jimmy say with some confusion. Craig nodded, and clenched his jaw.

A group of three giggling girls rushed past and Hazel only caught the last word of Craig's reply: "…explanation!" He crossed his arms and looked up. He saw Hazel coming, and nodded. He looked down at Jimmy, and jerked his head upward.

"See ya." Craig muttered, and turned to walk away.

"Bye, dude." Jimmy called after him and turned his wheelchair to face Hazel. He smiled brightly at her, and her eyes welled with tears. _You have to do this, _she thought with an aching heart, _You have to do this. _She blinked, and looked into his eyes. She did not smile back at him, and his wavered. He seemed to notice that she looked upset.

"Haz? You ok?" He asked quickly. She took a deep shuddering breath.

_Allah…_

All of the things she had planned to say just escaped her mind. She was drawing a blank. She just wanted to go home and cry; she just wanted to hide under her covers and wish the world away. She just wanted…

"We…We…We…" She stuttered. Her tears overflowed their banks. "We have to break up." She spat out quickly. _Tell him why._ Her mind ordered, but her mouth wouldn't obey.

He looked hurt and shocked, and his mouth opened once, and then closed. As it opened for the second time, she realized she couldn't bear to hear what he had to say. She broke into a sob, and ran past him, barely hearing as he called her name…

OoOoO

**A/N Right, so there is Chapter 2. I am a bad bad bad person for updating this story again before Captured Time, and to anyone that is reading both, I'm terribly sorry. BUT, you should know that before I started to write this little ditty, I re-wrote Chapter 5 of Captured Time. (I personally feel it flows better, and, well, is better in general.) **

**My only problem is that at the moment I'm having a bit of trouble capturing (no pun, eh?) Emma for Chapter 6. It's being so darn stubborn, because I have totally rethought the plot direction for the story, I've got it all in my head, I know exactly what I want, but this Chappie is giving me sooo much trouble! It just won't come out right, and it feels stilted (be prepared, this is my word of the day). So I'm going to take it really slow and see if I can coax it out. Laugh and Giggle.**

…**You know what? I actually had an Author's Note that concerned _this_ story, isn't that amazing? Well, perhaps I'll get to that right now. Tee-hee.**

**So… One thing that I am unhappy with myself for, and don't really know how to fix, is my stilted-ness when it comes to sex in this (and probably most) of my stories. I certainly don't want to go graphic (as if I could), so the writing of such scenes may seem…stilted. (I can't really think of another word, sorry.) **

**Oh, and another thing. I was re-reading, and I realized that in the first chapter I started with Matt and Paige sharing a kiss, and only said '**They were so into each other that they didn't notice the front door open…**', which, I know, makes it seem as though the person that walked in would only see them kiss. (Again, I'm so stilted.) Enough time really did pass for what happened to happen. I just wanted you all to know a bit more with the last chapter than just Matt and Paige kissing on her couch. Besides, I 3 cliffhangers. Bwah ha ha.**

**Anyway. Please review this, and any other story of mine you see fit. I greatly appreciate all feed back. Also, I would like to specially thank Maibe Josie, as she reads a lot of my stuff, and leaves me wonderfully useful reviews.**

**Much 3 (Wow, that was a really long note. Sorry about rambling.)**


	4. Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over

Jimmy woke up in a cold sweat and looked suspiciously at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

_3:30_. _Shit, _he thought with clenched fists. _Again…_

Ever since the shooting, vivid nightmares had been haunting his dreams. And each time he had the misfortune to have one, they were always the same.

Each time he would be walking, walking on his own. And every time, he would walk, walk to his locker. And every time, it was like a movie, a movie he already knew the ending to. But, he could never shout loud enough to make himself leave his locker alone. He could never forget about his books.

And he always got shot. He always apologized to Rick, he always saw the boy's pasty skin gleam with sweat, always saw the shiny metal of the gun raised, always felt the pounding of his terrified heart, and then….

Then it strayed from reality. Jimmy had discussed with his therapist what the next part of this dream must mean, and had not been totally convinced.

In his dream, Rick would shout a question at him in the moments before the gun was fired; Rick would shout, "You know why I have to kill you don't you?" And Jimmy would mutely shake his head. Rick would sneer at him, and his grip on the gun would become surer. "Because you're just like me." He would say lightly, and close his eyes. Jimmy would turn to take his last steps…

And then he would wake up. He never saw the shooting, but Rick's invented words hurt just as badly.

Jimmy had told his therapist about the dream, and positively begged her to explain it away. She had instead hit him with a question. "Do you feel like you are just like Rick?" Jimmy had opened his mouth, a vicious "No!" on the tip of his tongue, but something had stopped him. He must, mustn't he? _He_ had made Rick say those words. It was _him _who dreamed the whole thing up. So he wasn't sure, did he believe those words?

"No." he would say. Because he knew it was true. After all, Hazel was still dating him, right? And she wouldn't date him if he was like Rick. He was safe. He just knew it.

Until now, that is.

OoO

Spinner stood outside of the building he had spent so many hours in, and he sneered at it. So what if they wouldn't let him in it, so what? They couldn't stop him from being here now.

He looked at the watch around his wrist. _3:30_. He laughed as he pulled the can out of his pocket.

It was early in the morning or late at night. It just depended on how you looked at it. Just like it depended on how you looked at Spinner. He was evil, or he was stupid. It killed him that even he had doubts as to the right answer.

He looked up at the doors to the school. He felt tears prick his eyes, and he tried to tell himself that the place meant nothing to him, he tried to explain the tears as a symptom of his drunkenness.

He shook the can and took shaky steps up to the entrance. The glass was clear and clean, and he hiccupped. He wanted to hurt this place, wanted to hurt it for all the things it had done to him.

Or all the things he had done to himself. But, he wasn't ready to take the blame.

He pulled the cap off of the top of the can, and set it down. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the bottle of liquor. He uncapped it and took a large swig.

Life wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he had spent every moment here wishing he never had to return, only to have his wish granted and to find himself wishing to be back in the class room.

It wasn't fair that he should make the mistake of taking it too far with the guy who was already too far past sanity. It wasn't fair that he never knew when to stop. It wasn't fair that he betrayed his best friend. It wasn't fair that when he had come clean they had…

That's right, it wasn't fair, but who was he to mope? He was here now, wasn't he? Yes, yes he was.

He picked the can of green paint up, brought it to the window, and tried to depress the button that would release his anger. His hand was shaking too much, and his finger slipped off. He dropped the liquor bottle with his other hand, and watched the amber liquid escape the broken shards of glass.

All he wanted was an escape…

He gently set the spray paint on the top most step and turned around to leave.

Vandalism would not provide an escape. He meandered away from that place, and tried to think through his self inflicted haze as to what would.

OoO

Alex hugged herself tightly as she walked quickly down the darkened street. She had but four blocks until she reached her home, and then…then she could sleep. The thought was comforting, and her eyes felt heavy.

She shook her head, and tried to ignore the fact that it was _3:30_ in the morning. She wanted to kill her mother. That was at the top of her list. The fact was, killing the useless waste of flesh that spawned her would do little to help the situation.

The fact was, even if Alex was seriously considering murdering that _thing_, it would be extremely hard to do. She had no idea where the women was. At all.

After Larry had left the night before, Alex had gone to bed. When she had woken up, her mother was gone. There was a note, and Alex had been supremely surprised.

_Alexandra,_

_Take care of Josephine for me. I can't be here. I can't deal with you two right now. I have to find him._

_Goodbye,_

_Mom_

Alex had found this letter completely hysterical, and had spent nearly fifteen minutes laughing so hard that tears pooled in her eyes. And then… then she had become hysterical, and the girl who would rather be seen dead than with tears streaming down her face, was doing just that. And she couldn't breathe for the tears.

She couldn't think, and she couldn't be. And she didn't know how long she had sat on the living room floor, sobbing brokenly, when she came back to the real world, to find her baby sister sitting in her lap, stroking her wet cheeks, and mumbling something only she could understand.

So Alex did what Alex would do. She got herself and her sister dressed, dropped her sister off at her daycare, and went to school. And after school, she had picked her sister up, and brought her home, made her a snack, and played finger puppets with her. When five o'clock rolled around, she had timidly knocked on the door of the crotchety old neighbor women's house, and begged for a sitter for the next few hours.

When the women had lectured her sufficiently about the importance of preparedness, and about how she wouldn't always be able to drop everything and take care of Alex's chores, she had hugged a sleepy Josie, and pulled the girl into the house, leaving a slightly annoyed Alex staring at a closed door.

But, she figured she didn't have too many options, so she had sucked it up, and ran to work. And after work, she had gone to the ravine.

There she had tried to get drunk, but she had failed. Miserably. She just hadn't been able to drink the alcohol, when she knew she should be thinking of a way to fix the situation.

So when a drunken someone offered a sober Alex a profitable idea, she was repulsed and pissed off.

So she had gone home, put Josie to bed, and tried to think of something else to do. She needed more money than her after school cinema job could ever sustain.

She was screwed. And that thought led to others, until she was positively depressed, and then, she had been able to drink.

And once she was pleasantly drunk, she had fancied a walk. After that…it was all a blur.

OoO

Manny sat staring at the alarm clock's glowing numbers. _3:30_. _I need to sleep. _She thought restlessly, as she swung her feet back and forth over her plush pink carpet.

But, that was just it, she _couldn't_ sleep. It was allusive, evasive, and stubborn. She wanted nothing more than the comfort of a few good hours of rest, but her eyes seemed permanently pried open.

Her heart was racing too; she felt sick. Maybe she would ask her mother to let her stay home tomorrow. Yeah, that was a good idea. And though she wanted to continue to ponder the brilliance of her last thought, she suddenly needed nothing more than to vomit.

She rushed out of her room, and into the bathroom across the hall. She barely made to the cool porcelain of the bowl before her retching started, and she continued for several minutes without relief.

She had, apparently, made enough noise to wake her mother, as she was standing in the doorway looking apprehensively at her daughter.

"Manuela?" She asked softly, and walked slowly over to her daughter. "Dear? Are you alright?" She asked crouching next to the violently sick girl, and running her hand up and down her bathrobe clad back.

Manny closed her eyes and leaned against her mother.

"Yeah, mom, I think I'm just getting the flu." She whispered as her mother pulled her into a comforting hug and brushed the sweaty hair off of her forehead.

"Shh... I'll set up an appointment with Dr. Andrews tomorrow, _mija_." Her mother said as she slowly got up and helped Manny to her feet. "We'll get you on some antibiotics, and you'll be back to normal." She kissed Manny's forehead led her back to her room.

Manny smiled gratefully and slipped between her sheets. "Thanks, Mom." She said softly and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot better.

OoO

Emma stared at the carpet and counted the spots her tears made. There were fifteen so far, and she figured she was just getting started.

She glanced across the room and saw her mother slumped in an armchair, her arms crossed, and a look of unmerciful sleep plastered across her face. Jack was in his bedroom, and…

And Snake was not here.

Snake was spending this night like he had spent every other night this week, in a hospital room, strapped to a million different probing machines, each one designed to help him heal.

And none of them seemed to be working. Emma felt it was the ultimate cruelty to send a man into a prolonged remission, and make him feel alive again, only to have him fall so hard back into the flood of agony his disease tended to make him feel.

She slid down to the floor, and traced her finger around the dots on the floor. She found no comfort in anything these days. She hated that she always felt restless when it was time to rest, and completely unmotivated when it was time to focus.

She hated that she couldn't bring herself to use any of the coping mechanisms that way actually help her. She couldn't talk to anyone, she couldn't tell her friends how much she was hurting. She couldn't cry when anyone would see her. Her mother was so stressed herself, that she wasn't noticing that Emma seemed rather shell-shocked. And Emma couldn't explain to her how she felt.

She couldn't explain this emptiness inside her. Where once there had been a bonfire of hope, there now was only a tiny candle light. She didn't know what would happen to Snake, and it scared her so completely that she felt ill herself.

She felt betrayed. She had trusted Snake to be well. And now he wasn't. She could feel herself becoming angry at him, and that scared her.

She was so scared.

Her tears blurred her vision, and she stared at the slowly ticking clock. _3:30_. Emma buried her face in her hands and willed sleep to visit her.

OoO

Liberty sat ripping pieces of paper into smaller and smaller pieces. She was so completely disgusted with herself that she almost felt like doing something drastic. Like getting drunk.

"Argh!" She exhaled roughly and viciously tore a piece of construction paper into four smaller sheets. How could she have done this? She stared at the ever growing pile of paper next to her bed, and cursed aloud at herself.

She felt supremely pathetic. She had awoken earlier from a pleasant dream in which she and J.T. were still together, and happily playing in her hot tub when…she had remembered that they weren't in fact together, and had been reduced to tears.

In an effort to make herself feel better, she had hopped off her bed and pulled a box out from under it. She had wanted to find a picture of the two of them together, hoping that would make her feel better, but instead she had found something that had made her want to throw up.

In the box was an extremely large pile of paper with things such as, '_Liberty + J.T. True Love!_' or '_Mrs. Liberty Yorke._', scrawled across them, in cursive writing and pink ink.

And the pile was huge. It had been steadily growing since the first time she had met him, and had received a spike once they had started dating…and now? Now, Liberty wanted to deny that she had ever had a part in anything like this.

She was strong, right? She was independent and forward and…and _she_ wasn't the type to do something like this!

So here she was, she glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table, _3:30_, ripping up enough paper to make Emma have a coronary. She knew she wouldn't ever be able to sleep until all evidence of this pathetic deed was destroyed.

So she continued to fill her room with confetti, but she couldn't force the thought from her head that the reason behind the pathetic notes was still nestled in her heart.

And, she thought, it was starting to turn that organ into confetti.

OoO

Marco sat on his bed in the dim light provided by the street lamp outside his window. He was feeling like he wanted to throw up, and he wasn't very happy about it.

He looked down at the midnight blue comforter he was sitting on and sighed. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run, and scream, and yell until every once of uncertainty was cleansed from his being.

He had spent a year of his life, and come to think of it- Ellie's, figuring out that he was gay. And now? Now he sees one girl in a coffee shop, and all that figuring might as well have gone to hell.

But the thought of that girl wouldn't leave him alone. _Ellyn._ Her name was just…pretty. He didn't understand what was so special about her. He really couldn't get what it was that made him doubt everything about himself.

_I mean,_ he thought restlessly, _I _love_ Ellie, and I couldn't feel like this with her…_ He felt guilt swirling in his gut at the thought of Ellie. If he wasn't gay, then he should be with Ellie, right?

That was some sort of rule, wasn't it? If he wasn't gay, then he should be with someone he loved, right?

_Platonic _was the only word that came to mind when he thought of Ellie. And of Ellyn? _Attractive._ Ellie- _Beautiful.­_ Ellyn- _girlfriend. _Ellie- _best friend._

It all felt wrong and tipped over. Marco vigorously scrubbed at his eyes with his hand, and told himself that he must be suffering a prolonged hallucination from the fumes. _What fumes?_ An annoying part of his mind piped in. _Any fumes- anything to explain this crazy shit._

He was so confused, and he couldn't stand it. He had done the confused bit before. He had already spent so many months confused and bewildered at the feelings consuming him. It wasn't fair that he had read all of those feelings incorrectly. It just wasn't fair.

And Dylan was in the back of his mind too. He was relieved to find that he still seemed attracted to him. And he still thought that Johnny Depp was a hottie. So what did that mean? _Bi-sexual?_

He stood up and paced over to his closet, and placed one hand palm against it. He closed his eyes and pushed himself backward. He kept his body rigid and fell to his floor with a muted thud.

His eyes wandered to the glow-in-dark stars on his ceiling, and a sigh escaped him. He felt torn, and wounded. She had laughed and he had heard bells. Those damn bells seemed to be changing everything about him.

He rolled over to face his alarm clock. The bright green read out showed _3:30._ He brushed the hair out of his eyes and stood up. He wanted to sleep but it didn't seem possible. Instead he made his way over to his desk and flipped the lamp on. He sat down slowly in his creaky old chair and opened the library book in front of him.

He softly began to read aloud: "_Who is John Galt?_"

OoOoO

**A/N: Ok, guys. This one is a bit shorter than the others, and obviously a filler. I didn't really want any of those in this story, but it needed to be done. I'm working with a pretty complex plot here, and just about every character from the show is in this story, and just about every one of them will have a plot line all their own. So, to that end, I need to make sure you guys feel secure that my story is plausible, and not rushed. Therefore: filler. I just wanted you guys to see into the minds of the characters a little, and be able to help get a leg up on their plots. **

**About reviews: Those of you who have been reviewing: you are totally awesome. The thing is, I don't like people who beg for reviews, as they annoy the crap out of me. So I don't want to do that. I know that more people are reading it than reviewing, because there's a pretty nifty hit counter I can check. This story is getting hit pretty heavily, but not a lot of people are leaving reviews.**

**This wouldn't be too big of a deal, except for the fact that I absolutely ADORE constructive criticism. I would really love it if more of you guys would review and tell me what you think. I want to know if the characters are in character, if the plots are believable, if you're confused. I really want to know this stuff, and I'm biased. So, please review and give me your opinions so that I know what to fix.**

**(To clarify: I'm not saying anything of the sort about needing more reviews to continue, or that I want a lot of: 'Great! Keep it up!' 's. Those are nice and all, but I really am craving some CC. Love to all those that have been so far. Next chapter, I swear, you'll all get mentioned by name.)**


	5. Calm Before the Storm

The doctor's office consisted of a germ infested waiting room, a screaming toddler, and an over eager receptionist.

"Not feeling so well, dearie?" She simpered at Manny, who was ashen faced and holding unto her stomach as though she was about to vomit. _Of course not, _she thought with supreme sarcasm, _I come here all the time- get my kicks…_

Instead, her mother placed her hand on her upper arm and squeezed reassuringly. "I think the stress of the start of her junior year has gotten to my Manuela. She just isn't herself." Manny's mother squeezed her shoulder again, and the receptionist clucked reassuringly and adjusted her over large glasses.

"Well, m'dear, Dr. Andrews will be with you in just one moment." She grinned widely, and Manny noticed how uneven her teeth were. "Not to fret!"

Manny nodded at her, and glanced at the clock on the wall. If she were not here, in this dim doctor's office, she would be in English. And that really cute new kid sat a row to the left of her, when she turned just the right way, and tilted her head right, she could spend the whole hour staring at his jet black hair, and Kwan would never know…

"Santos, Manny?" A raven haired attendant called from the hallway that led to the examining rooms. Mrs. Santos smiled at the woman behind the counter and pushed at bit against her daughter's arm. As she began to walk, Mrs. Santos did not remove her hand. Manny found this a bit comforting, and she followed vaguely along behind the girl in front of her.

"Well, let's just weigh you and check your height." She smiled at Manny, and Manny found the young woman's smile reassuring. Mrs. Santos smiled too, and Manny clenched her jaw. She wanted to smile, but she was afraid that if she relaxed her facial muscles, she would vomit all over the pale green industrial carpet of the hallway.

"I'm Annette, by the way." The raven haired woman said softly. Manny nodded and slowly stepped unto the scale. She welt weary- her very bones were tired.

"O-o-o-o-k!" Annette breathed out and adjusted the weights at the top of the bar. She looked at the number, looked at the chart, looked at the number, and then looked at Manny, before glancing back at the chart and recording the newest weight. She read Manny's height off quickly and then ushered the women into a small examining room.

"I just need your temperature." She smiled at Manny and walked over to the wall, where she pulled down a thermometer that took its readings via ears, and walked comfortingly over to Manny.

"100.7" She said softly and scribbled that number unto the chart in her arm. Manny started at the temperature, but Annette placed her hand on her arm. "Nothing to worry about, it's just a fever." Manny relaxed a bit and Annette walked over to the cabinet in the far side of the room. "Ok, so I'm just going to go let Dr. Andrews know you're ready to see him." She smiled again and headed out the door. "It'll be just a moment!" She called over her shoulder.

She closed the door behind her, but it didn't latch and a few moments after she had left, the Santos women heard a whispered conversation take place between the doctor and Annette.

"She's lost fifteen pounds since her check up three months ago- she's down to 105." Manny looked down at her taught stomach and tried to decide if that was bad news. "And she's running a bit of a fever."

"Thanks, Annette." Dr. Andrew's deep voice rumbled, and Manny tensed up. The door opened, and he cheerfully said: "Hello there, Miss Santos. I hear you're feeling a bit under the weather."

"Ye-ss." She stuttered a bit. She was nervous about speaking with him. Though she had indeed had a checkup only three months ago, he had been out of town. She had seen his assistant, and now, this was the first time she had seen him sense he had confirmed her pregnancy.

He smiled benignly and began to wash his hands in the sink, talking all the while. "So, I see you've lost a bit of weight?" He asked casually. He turned to face her and picked up a paper towel from the stack next to the sink. "Was it intentional?" He continued with the casual tone as he tossed the used towel into the trash and leaned back against the cabinet.

Manny looked at her stomach and then at the doctor. "N-no." She stuttered honestly and angrily told herself to pull it together. She had no reason to be frightened by him, and her stuttering made her sound dishonest. He looked at her penetratingly, and she coughed.

"Really." She promised with a sigh. "I guess it's just that I've been working so hard with cheerleading." He looked at her again, but this time he nodded.

"Ok, so, what are your symptoms?" He asked and walked toward her, motioning for her to sit up straight.

"Nauseous, weak, always tired, and I guess I've got this fever." She bit her lip. "And my stomach hurts." He nodded and pressed his stethoscope against her back. She winced against the cold, but did as she was instructed and took three deep breaths.

He motioned for her to lie back down, and again in a completely casual voice asked: "And your periods? Are they still regular?" She looked away from him and bit her lip again.

"Well, actually." She said slowly, thinking about it for the first time, "I haven't had one in a while." She continued to look away from him, and focused on a spot on the wall. "I guess…I've been training really hard with cheerleading." She ended.

She remembered the hell that had followed that excuse last time, and thought with dread that she'd already used it twice today.

"Very well." He smiled at her. "Did they ever become regular after the abortion?" He asked gently and she nodded, mute.

"It's just the last few months they've been off." She said in a barely audible voice. He nodded and ran the stethoscope under her blouse. After three deep breaths, he nodded again.

"Ok, tell me if this hurts." He looked her in the eye and she nodded. He pressed at her abdomen and she winced.

"That hurts." She whispered, and he nodded, but this time a frown line crossed his brow. He continued to place pressure on her abdomen until at last she shrieked.

"Oww!" She let out a noise at the pain in her stomach. Dr. Andrews looked at her stomach for just a second longer than seemed normal, and walked back over to the cabinet. Manny sat up.

"Ok. Well, I'm not completely satisfied that I know what's going on. So…" he shuffled the papers around in his hand. "I want you to come in here in the next day or so…." He peered at the paper in his hand, "and I want to get an ultrasound done."

Manny glanced at her mother with panic apparent in her face. The doctor noticed this and smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure it's nothing serious, dear." He said confidently. "I just want to rule out a remote possibility…" He again glanced at the paper.

"What's remote?" Mrs. Santos said sharply. Dr. Andrews smiled mockingly at himself and sighed.

"Seeing as how I'm about 99 sure that it's not the case, I'd rather not go into it." He smiled surely at them. "Not to worry! I'm sure it's only a case of the flu. A bit of over cautiousness is prudent, now and again." Mrs. Santos seemed satisfied by this, but Manny was trembling.

"Set up an appointment with the receptionist on your way out!" Dr. Andrews called as he ushered the two women out back into the hallway, and turned to enter another room a little further down the hall.

Manny glanced down at her stomach, and irrationally she felt like crying.

OoO

"The Ancient Egyptians were one of the most developed cultures of their period. They had one of the most influential societies on the planet, and their Pharoenic system was one of the more advanced forms of government of the time." Mr. Garson droned in a bored voice.

Craig tuned him out and went back to staring at Ashley. _What the hell is wrong with her?_ Craig asked himself, and clenched his fist, promptly breaking his newly sharpened pencil in two.

He continued to hold the piece with the sharpened end, and began to doodle on his paper. What were supposed to be notes ended up as stick figures with little triangle dresses being thrust into odd, and mostly dangerous, situations.

_I mean, where does she get off? What, am I just...a toy? Like she can just pick me up or throw me away whenever she wants to?_

**_You cheated on her. That's not really treating her very well. And maybe you deserve to be dumped,_** a treacherous part of his mind declared. He had to admit it did make sense.

_She could have given me a reason, _he thought bitterly and subtly decapitated one of his stick figures.

_**Yeh, but what if you don't want to know? And could you ever give her a reason about Manny?**_

_That's different!_

_**How?**_

_She knows about Manny!_

_**You didn't tell her.**_

_Yeh, she found out by herself…_

…

Craig stared moodily at the notebook in front of him. He counted the stick figures, and noted that there were twelve. In a fit of childish anger, he scrawled across the top of the paper: The Twelve Torments of The Traitor, and at the bottom he scrawled: You Know Who You Are.

With a grim look he turned to Ashley, who was seated two rows to the right, and one seat up. She was staring out a window, and couldn't have been paying less attention to the boring old man at the front of the room.

Craig noticed that she seemed more than bored. Her fingers were twitching rapidly against the desk, and she would glance every once in a while behind her, as though she expected someone to jump her.

And who knows? Maybe they would. She had, after all, confirmed every one in the school that she was indeed nothing more that a pathetic poser.

Craig, glanced back down at the paper, and folded it into fourths. He hastily scribbled: "POSER" across the front, and darkened the letters. When the teacher wasn't looking, he turned to the person next to him on the right.

"Pass it on." He whispered. The girl looked at the front of the paper, stifled a laugh, and passed it to the boy in front of her. The same reaction took place four times, before it ended up in Ashley's hands. The girl looked frightened at first, but, because no one had whispered: "Pass it on." She knew it was meant for her.

She slowly opened the paper, and all the color ran out of her face. She turned back to Craig who was watching her intently, and intense fear flitted through her eyes. She quickly broke the eye contact between them, and in one movement crumbled the paper and stood up.

"I have to go to the bathroom!" She said loudly, and ran out of the room, a few tears falling down her reddened cheeks.

Craig watched her leave, and guilt began to eat at his insides.

_**That was cruel.**_

He pushed the thought and the guilt away and tried to focus back on the teacher, but couldn't because the whole class was roaring with laughter at Ashley's hasty departure. Ellie was sitting right in front of Craig.

He saw her grip her head with her hands, and heard her faint whisper of: "You've got to tell me, Ash…"

Craig bit the inside of his lip. If Ellie didn't even know…

_**Then it'll be even harder for you to find out…**_

_But I will._

OoO

Ashley sat sobbing in the stall in the bathroom, trying her hardest to be silent about it. She clenched her fists and uncrumpled the paper in her hand, trying her best to read through her tears.

Even if he hadn't been staring at her, she would have known it was Craig's. She knew his handwriting. She was scared.

And it wasn't because of the stuff that was happening to the stick figures. She knew that Craig would never do anything like that. She knew that it was just his anger from her simply ending things with him.

No, she was scared because she just didn't want him to know any of the things she would have to tell him if they were together. And, hard as it was being without Craig, telling him those things would be much, much harder.

She wished she had a reason to give him, but she couldn't even bear to admit it to herself most of the time. How could she tell him?

Staring through her tears at the paper in front of her, an unwanted memory came to the surface:

"_Ashley Tadem Kerwin!" Her father shouted as she ran out of the room, sobbing. "Get back here!" Her hands shook as she slammed the door behind her, and she heard her father's husband's muffled: "Just let her cool off, ok?"_

_Ashley's tears ran like rivers down her reddened cheeks and she hurried out into the cool London street. _

_She had come to London this summer to spend time with her father, as well as maintain a internship. She had come to see him and live with him like she didn't get to do during the school year._

_But he didn't have enough time for anyone but his new husband, and Ashley's jealousy swelled with each passing moment._

_She turned quickly at the corner, and barreled into the late-night coffee shop that she knew was there from previous escapes. She couldn't bear to sit, alone and unwanted, in a barren guest bedroom in London while her father and his new love cannoodled on the couch. So she had snuck out many times, but tonight was different._

_Tonight was a betrayal. Her father's and her own. Her father had promised that tonight was just for he and Ashley. That the two of them would spend the night together, eat dinner, see a movie, and maybe go out for coffee and talk. Just the two of them. Some real quality time._

_Bu,t at the last minute, it was determined that her step father would have to come too, as it wasn't fair to just leave him at home, while the whole family went out and had a good time._

_And Ashley had let it slide, because, at that point any time with her father was golden. So she went with them to dinner, and she watched as the were insufferably cute to each other, and she bit her tongue while they had what seemed like hours of conversation that didn't include her._

_When they finally made it to the movie, Ashley watched in disappointment as the foreign film she had so carefully picked out of the local newspaper, and circled so that her father could see it with her and discuss the political implications, was scraped in favor of what could only be described as a pointless 'chick flick'._

_The main plot included a beautiful women who woke up one day without any memories at all in a sociopaths house, and was told she was his live in girlfriend. Threw many trials and tribulations, in which the lady lost a hand, and the sociopath was thrown off a high cliff, the women fell in love with the gardener, who happened to be her long lost estranged husband, who magically forgave her for her misinformed passionate affair with the mad man, and helped her regained her lost memories. Cue sex scene._

_And after that barf-fest, the three of them had traveled back to their apartment, and the two lovebirds had started to putter around the kitchen together, taking almost forty-five minutes to make coffee. Ashley had walked from her room to find the two of them sharing a rather un-chaste kiss._

_After that she couldn't take it anymore, she blew up. Her words were basically unrecognizable through her shrieks, and she finally turned purple and began to sob._

_As her father moved towards her, a stricken look on his face, and a guilty tilt of his head, she recoiled._

"_Don't you _dare_ touch me, you…ass!" She brought a shaky hand up to her face and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. _

_His hand fell from it's intention of comforting her. His eyes were blank, and she could tell that she had not greatly affected him. She searched for something she could hurl at him, anything that would make him feel as horrible as his unintentional neglect had hurt her._

_Her eyes snapped and without thought, or consent of her mind, her mouth opened and the words: "Stay away from me, you fag!" spilled out._

_He looked as shocked as she felt at her words, but at that point she was past the point of caring. Her sobs were shaking her loose, and she ran past him at a full tilt. She had to get away from him, and she wanted desperately to get away from herself._

_Now, Ashley found herself in front of the coffee shop she knew to be open late. She squeezed herself through the heavy door, and scurried to the back, where she quickly hid herself behind a display of some stupid romance novel._

_Her tears came so fast and so hard that she couldn't remember if she had drawn breath during those moments._

"_Well, you look like your life sucks." Ashley's startled eyes flickered across the face of the blonde haired youth standing in front of her. She sniffed, and put her head on her knees. "Name's Ryan." He promptly sat down on the floor next to her, and Ashley stared at him apprehensively._

_He looked at her expectantly for a moment, but when she didn't say anything he sighed. "You've got one, haven't you?" She looked confused and he clarified with an exasperated tone. "A name, dearie?" she looked annoyed by his pet name. She didn't want to tell him what her name was, but she really didn't want him to call her 'dearie'._

"_Ashley." She wiped her hand across her puffy wet eyes, and looked with disgust upon the smeared mascara stains. He grinned at traced a finger along the black lines. She shivered at the touch of this complete stranger._

"_They look like skid-marks, you know." He said in a cheery voice. "Ashley's a horrible name." She glanced at him. This remark was almost more startling than his sudden plopping down next to her. This Ryan seemed to have no manners at all. "If you're going to hang with me and my crew, you're going to need a better name than Ashley." He stared into the distance for a moment, and Ashley looked at him closely, trying to decide if he was mentally ill._

"_Hmmm…" He exhaled slowly. Then he laughed. _His laugh's very nice_, Ashley thought absently. "We'll call you Skid. I like it."_

_She stared at him a moment more and he locked eyes with her. "That won't do, dearie." He said softly. She couldn't find anything appropriate to say as he swiftly wiped his thumb under each of her eyes. "There you go." She didn't know what appropriate was in this situation. What was the appropriate way to respond to someone that crossed every line you had ever known? "You're really quite beautiful." He said with a smile, and he stood up with a bounce._

_Not really understanding why, perhaps it was his fascinatingly strange personality, or the depression that was eating at her insides, she stood up._

"_Smashing, dahling." He said with a wide grin. He grabbed her hand, and she forgot to feel awkward. "Let's go get you hammered."_

OoO

Paige's feet brushed back and forth over the water in the bathtub she was staring at. She just wanted to be relaxed for fifteen minutes. She only wanted to relax and not have to think about the fact that her mother was a raving lunatic who had tried to have the love of her life locked up for statutory rape.

She dipped a toe into the scalding water and sighed. Just thinking of that made her want to cry, but sadly, she had no tears left. She took a deep breathe and slid into the soothingly hot water.

After bathing for enough time to turn her skin a nice wrinkled texture, she stood up and wrapped her fuzzy pink robe about her person and scurried across the hall to her bedroom. Once inside she slipped into some old sweatpants and the baggiest t-shirt in her closet, left her hair in it's towel wrap, and slid between the sheets of her green bed.

She grabbed the bag of candy pieces from the nightstand next to her bed and pushed the PLAY button on her stereo remote. As a wash of completely non-Paige like music hit her ears, tears seared cheeks that had convinced themselves that they were done with that.

She had palmed this CD from Matt, and the emo music fit her mood exactly. She cranked the stereo up to the point that the base was messing with her heart beat, and she closed her eyes.

But the song held too many memories for her to just sit here and stew- she turned it off and reached over to the nightstand and pulled her cell phone to her ear. "Matt." She said clearly and the auto-dialer did the rest.

He picked up after the fourth ring. "Hello?" He asked cautiously and a few more tears slid down her cheeks.

"It's me." She whispered in a pitifully small voice.

"I know." He said softly, and there was an emotion in his voice that bordered on outright fear.

"I told the truth." He sighed. "She didn't believe me." He sighed again. "She pressed statutory rape charges." Her voice caught and more tears fell down her cheeks.

"I know." She drew her breathe in sharply. "They came to my house to charge me with it."

"What-" she began in a strained voice.

"I don't want to talk about it." He said shortly, and with an edge to his voice. Paige felt the accusatory air that had passed over the phone, and she openly began to cry.

"Paige-" he sputtered weakly. "I didn't mean-"

"I know." She stumbled through her tears. "I get it. I hate her, Matt. I hate her so much." She hiccupped.

"I'm starting to." He said with a catch in his voice. Paige opened her mouth when she heard her mother calling her downstairs, saying that it was important.

"I-love you." She said with a voice that cracked several times.

"I love you, too." He said sadly and hung up the phone. She stifled a sob and closed her phone reluctantly.

She walked slowly down the stairs, and into the foyer. Her mother was standing there with two rather official looking men and a police officer.

"Paige Michalchuk?" one of the official looking men said solemnly. She nodded. "We're here to notify you that your presence is required at a preliminary hearing in the rape suit you filed against a Dean Porter."

OoOoO

**I apologize for the fact that only four characters where centered on. I dunno what's with this chapter in that sense, but other than that: I rather enjoy it.**

**Thanks to everyone who mentioned the 'Mija' thing. I did know that Manny was Filipino, but I did a bit of research (and I mean a SMALL amount) and the Philippines were a Spanish colony, and a lot of the Spanish culture rubbed off. The Santos' could very well speak Spanish. But, I don't really think it matters. Thanks so much for the CC!**

**Oh, and another thing I was thinking of. The chapter titles are the names of songs whose lyrics I would like to use at the beginning of each chapter to set it up. However, that's not allowed, so I settled for chapter titles.**

**And, another thing, I promised you wonderful reviewers mentions by name, but I'm really too tired right now.**

**Just know that I love you guys with all my heart, and hopefully next time, I'll show you properly.**

**Thanks for reading!**


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